It's Not Blackmail
by spittingllama7856
Summary: Clark couldn't help but overhear something that intrigues him in Wayne Manor. He knew he probably shouldn't have sat there and watched as Barry kissed Bruce, but now he had something to hold over Bruce's head. Slash and possibly OOC Superman.


_Prompt: [Dialogue] "That so wasn't fair."_

* * *

It should've been easy for Clark to ignore some of the sounds coming at him from every corner of the globe. He'd dealt with tuning things out when things got too personal or when it wasn't his place to hear the secrets. After all, he didn't want to hear that and nobody else wanted him to.

It was not easy to do that when it came to the other members of the Justice League, as Clark quickly learned. Especially not when the world's greatest detective, who had to be the sneakiest person alive, was failing _so hard_ at being sneaky.

Honestly, when would the man line Wayne Manor _entirely_ with lead if he didn't want Clark to hear everything that went on inside?

He couldn't explain it, but Clark felt a pull to the conversations that Bruce had. It was very unlike him to want to eavesdrop, much less actually do it, but he couldn't help it. Every night, there was something new and interesting that Clark just had to hear.

That was the only explanation he couldn't given someone if they wondered why he was hovering a couple miles from Wayne Manor, staring intently at the scene unfolding before him. It was unusual for him to actually watch what was happening; listening felt too intimate most of the time, but Clark had gotten bored of staring at the moon when he snooped—um. . . okay, Clark didn't have a less intrusive-sounding synonym for that.

Bruce wasn't wearing his suit. Neither was Barry. Clark didn't get to see this side of them often; Barry thought his suit was awesome and hardly ever took it off, and Bruce was Batman when people were looking. People were almost always looking. The time he spent with Barry was probably Bruce's only time to really let go.

Clark shook off the thought that _he_ was looking, thus taking the small moment privacy away from the man.

Bruce and Barry looked so normal, sitting in the Manor library. Well, beside the fact that Barry was speed-reading and Bruce was throwing toothpicks into a trashcan from all the way across the room. Clark wasn't sure if Bruce was showing off for Barry or if he was just bored.

Clark was faintly amused to see Barry stop every two seconds and stare at Bruce. Of course, only Clark could actually see it happening because Barry was very, very fast about it. The speedster's cheeks were dusted pink. Clark smiled.

"Bruce," Barry eventually said, setting his thirtieth book aside.

If it had been anyone else, Barry's sudden movements and unexpected exclamation might've startled them. But no, that wasn't anyone else, that was Bruce. A raised eyebrow and a lazy side-along look was what Barry was working with.

"What is it?" Bruce asked, ceasing his toothpick throwing.

Barry grinned at him and leaned towards the older man, a playful gleam in his eyes.

"Chess?" he suggested, and Bruce's lips twitched.

"Alright," Bruce agreed.

He carelessly threw the handful of toothpicks into the fireplace, where they joined the merrily crackling fire. Bruce made to stand up, but Barry had already set up the chess board between them on the table. Barry sat down in the comfy leather chair across from Bruce, rubbing his hands together giddily, a goofy smile on his face. Clark could've sworn he heard Bruce huff a laugh when he saw it.

"You go first," Barry prompted after a few seconds, sounding slightly impatient.

Bruce smirked as Barry fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. Clark buried his face in his hands. Barry was _so_ not going to win. He'd probably be crushed by Bruce's far superior strategic skills and his ability to sit completely still for hours.

"Patience is a virtue, Barry," Bruce murmured. Barry groaned softly.

Clark didn't have a watch with him, but he was sure that hours could've passed before Bruce finally took pity on Barry and called checkmate.

"That so wasn't fair!" Barry exclaimed, flopping back over the armrest of the chair he was in with a huff. Bruce leaned forward, elbows on his knees, an intense look on his face that Clark hadn't seen before.

"I didn't cheat," he said softly.

"I know. I was watching," Barry replied flippantly.

Bruce rolled his eyes. Barry was next to the billionaire in less than a second, and Bruce hardly flinched. Instead, his eyes met the speedster's, and something seemed to pass between them.

"I can never _stop_ watching," Barry whispered.

Barry leaned towards Bruce, and they met each other halfway in a passionate kiss.

Clark stifled the urge to smirk as he turned away. He was going to have _so_ much fun holding this over Bruce's head.

* * *

 _A/N: When I started writing, it was supposed to be Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent. It turned into Barry Allen/Clark Kent. Then it was Barry Allen/Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent before this fic decided on a pairing. I was pleasantly surprised by what it chose to be. Also, this is my first DC fic, so please let me know what you think!_


End file.
